


cattle call

by jolt



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate title 2: Till the Cows Come Home, Alternate title: The Cow Fic, Fluff, LBR this is mainly about the cow, M/M, Safe to say this is just absolute udder nonsense, The Dallas Stars' cow features prominently
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-15
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2020-01-13 14:28:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18470833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jolt/pseuds/jolt
Summary: It’s starting to dawn on him that Tyler is just… there. Always. And it’s not a bad thing, except it’s also sometimes the worst thingever, so it’s kind of like having a precancerous mole, or something. Like, it’s not officially disastrous, but it’s also not going away anytime soon unless he deals with it, which, historically, he isn’t wont to do.Jamie considers sharing this metaphor, because it’s actually pretty accurate and helpful, and because he thinks Segs would probably get it, if he did. But then, maybehey you make me feel like I’m living with a precancerous moleis not the best pickup line.(Or, the Dallas Stars get a cow and Jamie decides to get his life together.)





	cattle call

**Author's Note:**

> THIS IS A WORK OF TOTAL AND UTTER (UDDER?) FICTION. PEOPLE ARE REAL BUT THE STORY IS TOTALLY FAKE AND TOTALLY (UNFORTUNATELY?) MINE.
> 
> So, okay, on the spectrum of ridiculous things that I have written, this falls on the pretty far end of the spectrum. This started as an udderly ridiculous concept that snowballed rapidly into something far more ridiculous with more sort-of plot than I intended (although not rapidly enough for me to post it within a week of starting it - however, be proud that I actually got my act together enough to properly see this through and not take, oh, five months to finish it - which is my usual MO) 
> 
> Anyway...cow fic!!!
> 
> Featuring a very long and windy Jamie Benn interior monologue, gratuitous references to Eat, Pray, Love, a sweet and lovely farm animal, and probably a more than few plotholes.

 

Katie’s breaking up with him for the fourth time when Jamie thinks, _Should I be getting my life together_?

Like, he’s almost thirty. Thirty is definitely the age most people start figuring their adult life shit out. It’s the turning point when guys slowly start to phase past the best years of their playing career. When most people start seriously thinking about — Jamie doesn’t really know — uh, marriage and babies and… planning for retirement?

(That last one’s mostly hazarding a guess, but the fact remains—)

Jamie’s starting to wonder if he’s reaching an age where at least some of those issues are of importance to him.

And, no offense to Katie - he loves her very deeply, in a mostly-terrified kind of way - but he doesn’t think he’s going to be marrying her. Frankly, he doesn’t think she’s going to be marrying him. Which - is the same statement, he knows. But there’s a difference.

Anyway, Katie’s starting to say things like, _You’re not what I need right now,_ and _I don’t think I’m what you need, either_ and it really hurts to hear, but Jamie thinks she’s probably right. And then she says, _Honestly, you have a lot you need to figure out_ , and when he thinks about it, he realizes — yeah, he really does. He’s gonna be thirty, soon, and much as Jamie’s never been one to worry about achieving personal milestones by certain ages, this one feels different.

 

-x-

 

Like every other time Katie’s ended things, Jamie bounces back pretty quickly. It’s not that it doesn’t hurt, but it’s happened often enough he’s practically an expert in being dumped; ergo, it phases him less. Also, this time, Jamie’s mindset is different. He’s about to get his shit together — it’s kind of exciting.

“She told you... _what_ , exactly?”

“That I’m not what she needs and she’s not what I need,” Jamie repeats. Jordie makes an appraising sound.

“And how’s that helpful to you, bud?”

“Well, you know,” Jamie says, pacing to the other side of his backyard. Jordie probably doesn’t know, though. Jamie probably has to spell it out: “It’s like, I have to find what I need.”

Jordie sighs. Jamie imagines him on the other end of the line, looking all pinched and put-out, somewhere in Montreal. “And what would that be, exactly?”

The ground is still damp from the morning and Jamie didn’t think about putting on better shoes when he came out here, so the grass feels squishy where it pokes him through his slides. “That’s the part I have to figure out.”

“Well, let me know when you do. I don’t want you getting hurt, kid.”

“M’fine,” Jamie answers, even though Jordie’s still going to worry. “Well? Any suggestions?”

“Oh, no. You’re on your own with this one.”

If Jordie’s not going to help, that’s okay. There’s only so much he can really do from a billion miles and a whole country away, anyway.

 

-x-

 

Jamie considers buying the _Eat, Pray, Love_ book, because Jenny had read it ages ago after her college boyfriend dumped her, and she said it really helped. And she’s got a baby now, so it must have.

And then, Jamie considers just watching the Julia Roberts movie on Netflix because he’s got a lot on his plate right now and doesn’t really have time to read a whole book.

And _then_ , Jamie falls asleep thirteen minutes into the movie because it had been a really gruelling day, physically, and maybe part of what his nearly-thirty-year-old body needs is to crash at ten pm sometimes. The following morning, he’s none the more enlightened about what he _needs_ in life, which is admittedly kind of a bummer. Until he arrives at practice only to be confronted by Tyler with —

“Did you hear about the cow?”

Jamie pauses. “Excuse me?”

Tyler drops his pants with a shrug and starts getting into his gear. “April fool’s thing. Like, a team mascot. But I think we get to keep him.”

“All cows are female, Segs,” Jamie corrects, but his head is swimming with the possibilities. Team mascot - that’s new; they’ve never officially had one before. Be good for morale, good way to get the fans invested. Good. Jamie nods to himself.

“Whatever. We adopted a _cow_ , bro,” Tyler continued. “And I think we have to, like, keep it now, because everyone on Twitter is freaking out.”

Jamie tugs his jersey on over his head. “What does the cow look like?”

Tyler shrugs. “Like, a cow? Black and white. Kinda fluffy. Like if a cow was a puppy.”

“So, a calf?”

“Jesus, Jameson, when did you become a cattle expert?” Tyler huffs as he continues to dress for practice.

Jamie ignores him.

He’s taping his socks when Bish approaches to ask, “Have you met the new mascot?” with a toothy smile.

Jamie glances around for Tyler, but he’s otherwise engaged with a group of Fins. “Uh, no. Heard it’s a cow, though.”

“ _Yeah_ , it’s a cow,” Bish says, kind of excitedly, but also kind of like he’s taking the piss. It’s always kind of hard to tell, with Bish. “They’re having a presser after practice. We _have_ to go meet it.”

So, that’s what they do. Tyler tags along, too, because he hasn’t actually met the cow yet, either. When they get there, there’s already a crowd of people cooing, bent over what Jamie can only imagine must be the cow. Jamie notices a few members of the PR team are gathered on the far end of the room, capturing people’s reactions. Probably to stoke the interest they’re trying to generate online. Good strategy, Jamie thinks, getting everyone involved in this.

When a group of people from the Stars Foundation step aside, Tyler, Jamie, and Bish make a beeline for the cow. Tyler was right — she kind of does look like a puppy, if a cow could be a puppy.

“Can I pet her?” Jamie asks, with his hand hovering hesitantly. He doesn’t want to be presumptuous and just reach out. Wouldn’t want to spook the thing.

But the lady holding the cow’s harness just laughs and says, “Sure, of course."

Jamie crouches to its approximate height, as though he were about to pet a puppy. Her hair is soft, if a little coarse, and he pets the top of her head generously. And then he gets a glimpse of those huge eyes and a part of him fucking melts. She looks at him, a little curiously, and Jamie feels like he’s being _seen_ , for the first time in ages. Like he could just get lost staring into her deep brown eyes. She’s beautiful.

“It’s like looking in a mirror, huh?” Bish chirps from above.

Jamie keeps his eyes on the cow. “Fuck off,” he tells Bish. Then to the cow, “You’re sweet, aren’t you?” he coos. She snorts a little in response. He loves her instantly.

After the presser, Jamie looks at Twitter. There’s a poll set up so the fans can vote on a name for the cow. Good marketing, he thinks. Nice way to get everyone engaged. The problem is, Jamie doesn’t like any of the names in the poll. Or, they’re fine, but they just don’t _fit_ , because they’re just stupid puns probably meant to drive home the point that this cow is a Dallas Star. Jamie thinks she’s way more of a Bessie than an Andy _Moooooog_.

So Jamie privately names her Bessie, and carries on with his day.

 

-x-

 

Katie hasn’t texted him in two weeks, and he’s more okay with it than he thought he’d be. Possibly because Jamie’s been trying to figuratively Eat, Pray, Love his way through it. Minus the eating, since the season’s still ongoing and he has to keep his diet pretty strict. Or the praying, unless the hockey gods count, which Jamie doubts. Or, technically, the loving — really, his spiritual journey is more of a side-project, at this point. Either way, it’s given him something to dwell on besides how much fucking free time he has on his hands now. Having to figure out his life’s purpose is kind of a solid way of getting back on his feet after a breakup. Why doesn’t everyone do this?

His resolve crumbles marginally when she posts an Instagram of her new cat. Jamie never wanted to get a cat, even though they didn’t live together. So this is… he doesn’t know. Maybe it’s a signal? She’s moving on? Jamie comments a cat emoji, anyway, because he’s done respecting himself and his boundaries today, and he wants Katie to know he, like, cares about her without making it seem like he _keeps up_ with her. He’s about to scroll some more through her feed when his screen changes to an incoming FaceTime call from Tyler.

“Seggy, it’s midnight,” Jamie says.

Tyler rolls his eyes. “Didn’t realize you had church early tomorrow, Grandma,” he says, and Jamie huffs. “Should I watch _Goodfellas_ or _The Godfather_?”

“Watch _Finding Nemo_ ,” Jamie answers unhelpfully. And then, “You’re gonna be up til three if you start something now.”

“Yeah, I get it, it’s late,” Tyler says. Then he flips the camera to show his Netflix queue. He goes to the search menu and hits F, selecting _Finding Nemo_ when it pops up. “Happy?”

“Why aren’t you at least trying to sleep?”

“House is too quiet,” Tyler answers, almost instantly. “The dogs are here but it’s so… big. I dunno. Freaks me out sometimes.”

Jamie looks around his own living room, its expansive floor plan, vaulted ceilings, the single lamp turned on in the corner. Empty. He misses Katie, but sometimes it’s totally for the wrong reasons.

“Yeah, I get that,” he says. He’s about to suggest maybe Tyler could come over and watch movies at his place, or he could go to Tyler’s or something, like old times, when Tyler interrupts his thoughts.

“What about you?” he asks. “Katie not over tonight?”

“Katie and I aren’t together anymore,” Jamie answers. And then he feels like he should clarify and adds, “I think it’s for good, this time.”

“Oh...” Tyler says slowly. He flips the camera around again and gives Jamie what Jamie thinks is a sympathetic look. His eyebrows are all pinched and his lips are a little pursed and he looks — as unwelcome a thought as it is — kind of adorable. “Are you okay, bro? Is your heart, like, broken or some shit?”

“I mean, yeah, I’m fine.” Jamie replies, and Tyler exhales. “Doing… good.”

“Good,” Tyler answers with a short nod. “Yeah, s’good.” And then, before Jamie can get another word in, “Well, thanks for weighing in. Sorry for calling late. I’ll let you sleep.”

“No, it’s fine — ”

But then Tyler’s flashing a peace sign and the call shuts off and the screen cuts back to Katie’s Instagram feed. Tyler doesn’t really FaceTime Jamie anymore. Well, he did just now, but that’s a bit of an anomaly. It’s neither good nor bad, it’s just. Not how they’ve been operating, lately. It’s like Tyler’s changed his radio frequency up by one, and Jamie’s left on the original frequency and now they can still hear each other through the walkie-talkies, but Tyler’s voice is slightly distant and fuzzy and —

This metaphor is getting away from him.

Once upon a time, Jamie thought he and Tyler —

Actually, scratch that.

Ship’s sailed, and all that.

 

-x-

 

And then, the weirdest thing happens —

They clinch.

“Cow bring good luck!” Rads shouts in the locker room after the game, all gap-toothed and buoyant and Russian. “Good luck cow!”

It earns him a chorus of cheering in response, and frankly, Jamie can’t disagree. What they did out there was pretty incredible. He feels slightly dazed, like he just watched them win this game from someplace in the sky. What’s that called, again? Like, an out-of-body experience? It’s something like that, but Jamie can’t stop _laughing_ like some sort of maniac because he just can’t believe it.

The bar later that night is even louder than the locker room.

“Fuck yeah, _boys_!” Tyler chants, depositing a tray of shots on the table and immediately distributing them to everyone in the vicinity. It’s whiskey. Jamie finds that surprising, but maybe the fact that it’s not tequila is one of the many indications Tyler’s mature now.

Once everyone’s downed at least two, Tyler wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and runs around their corner of the bar to high-five everyone. When he gets to Jamie, he wraps his whole hand around Jamie’s hand and kind of shakes it. The grip lingers and Tyler’s looking right in his eyes with this smile like they just conquered the world and Jamie has to mentally count backwards from ten so he doesn’t do something stupid.

“You know you can take the night off, right, bud?” Tyler says, observing him, and then he leans in. “We did it. We made it. Stop thinking so loud.”

Jamie’s still sitting on his stool but Tyler is standing, looming, hovering above him and kind of swaying into his space. So Jamie says, “Uhhh.”

There’s just too much of Tyler, everywhere, right now, and Jamie’s never been good at focusing on more than one important thing at a time, so he says, “Tyler, please sit down,” with a bit of a whiskey-gruff voice. Tyler, surprisingly, stops and turns to Jamie, and that’s when Jamie realizes he’s holding still Tyler’s hand.

“Sure, bud,” Tyler says, easy, and then he gives Jamie this gentle, expectant look.

Jamie’s mind goes blank. And not helpful, elevator music-blank; just blank-blank, and he suddenly can’t formulate a single sentence. It’s starting to dawn on him that Tyler is just… _there_. Always. And it’s not a bad thing, except it’s also sometimes the worst thing _ever_ , so it’s kind of like having a precancerous mole, or something. Like, it’s not officially disastrous, but it’s also not going away anytime soon unless he deals with it, which, historically, he isn’t wont to do.

Jamie considers sharing this metaphor, because it’s actually pretty accurate and helpful, and because he thinks Segs would probably get it, if he did. But then, maybe _hey you make me feel like I’m living with a precancerous mole_ is not the best pickup line.

After a moment, Tyler carefully pries Jamie’s hand off his own. “I’m gonna get a refill,” he says gently, as he bumps their shoulders together. Jamie watches Tyler walk away, and feels a weird sense of, like, forlornness blooming in his chest.

It’s accompanied by the usual thought of _I hate to see him go but I love to watch him leave_ —  followed immediately by — _I love Tyler_ ; followed then by — _I love Tyler?_ And Jamie objectively knows he does, but. Wow. Yeah, he does. And —

Holy shit, is _that_ what Katie meant by she’s not what he needs?

 

-x-

 

It’s less of a revelation than it should be. Which, Jamie figures, is probably a revelation, in and of itself. Take that, Julia Roberts.

 

-x-

 

Bessie is at practice, the following day.

Monty’s giving them a speech about how they can’t get complacent now, and it’s an accomplishment but they haven’t actually won anything yet, and mostly stuff Jamie agrees with but that nobody will absorb, when the door to the ice swings open. There’s a flurry of activity, and the team’s attention becomes consequently divided as they watch Stephanie from the Stars Foundation lead sweet Bessie carefully onto the ice, followed by the PR crew. They have a little carpet they’re rolling out in front of her, to make sure she doesn’t slip. Jamie nods to himself. They’re taking care of her. Good.

A few guys cheer when Bessie makes it out to center ice, and it makes Jamie’s heart swell. That’s their girl; their good luck cow, as Rads put it.

Monty’s had it with them, to the point where Jamie thinks his face might just be stuck in a permanent eye roll. But then he waves his hands in dismissal and lets them go make a fuss of the cow. Jamie makes it over to her first. He doesn’t know why, but she inspires this sense of calm in him, and he really thinks he could use a dose of cow-induced calm as he’s staring down a few pretty intense personal and professional feats.

“How you doing, Bess? Doing alright?” he says gently, being mindful of the tone he uses with her. He wiggles his glove off one hand and pets her soft head. “You’re having a busy few days around here, huh? You’re already a superstar. Everyone loves you.”

She snorts a little, probably in agreement, and her tail swings as she does so. Jamie wonders if that’s a good sign, like when dogs wag their tails. Then she pushes her head into his hand, and tilts a little so she’s looking at the rest of the guys. Jamie follows her line of sight to see Tyler in the distance, watching them and smiling. Not a even shit-eating kind of smile, like he’s making fun of them. He’s just leaning his chin on the heel of his stick and — smiling. When Jamie turns back around to look in Bessie’s eyes, it’s like there’s some kind of silent understanding between them, a wordless communication that passes from her brain to his.

“Really?” Jamie whispers, so only Bessie can hear. “You think I should tell him?”

In response, she makes this low noise, like a half-moo. Jamie thinks he understands. There’s just something therapeutic into talking to someone who won’t judge him, who will give him a knowing look, and who will set his worries at ease by tilting her head ever so slightly so he can scratch behind her perfect ears.

After that, Jamie asks if he can have ten minutes more alone with Bessie, and Jessica from social’s eyes light up like he just told her it could be Christmas every day. He has some things he needs to run by Bessie, before he makes any immediate decision to change his life indefinitely, and if the team gets some good promo pictures out of it, then that’s fine by him.

 

-x-

 

Later, when he’s flipping through Instagram, he sees the Stars have posted a picture of him and Bessie from earlier. The caption says, _Our two C’s getting to know each other #GoStarsGo._

It’s a nice picture, so Jamie double taps.

 

-x-

 

The next morning before practice, Jamie goes to Jim Nill’s office.

“I want to adopt the cow.”

Jim’s head shoots up from behind the monitor of his computer. His eyes are bugged out a little. “I beg your pardon?”

Jamie pulls his shoulders back and sticks out his chest a little, trying to use his physical stature to approximate a sense of confidence and authority and to convey to Jim that he knows what he’s doing. He doesn’t even fiddle with the drawstring of his hoodie, or dig his nails into his palms once. Mental high-five. “The cow. I want to adopt her.”

“I don’t think that’s how this works, Jamie,” Jim replies, scratching his moustache. “I mean, you’d have to bring it up with the people at the Stars Foundation.” He sputters a little and continues “The cow… it’s gonna grow, you know? And the city has...bylaws on that.”

“I have a big backyard,” Jamie insists.

Jim looks unconvinced. Jamie sighs, and turns on his heel to find someone from the foundation he could talk to about Bessie.

 

-x-

 

So, they don’t let Jamie keep her. They’re glad he’s enthusiastic about the mascot, but she’s technically not up for adoption. Instead, they give him the address of the farm she’s staying at for the time being and invite him to visit whenever he wants. It’s fine, because the Stars Foundation is a charity and Jamie’s not about to mess with a charity just because he thinks he’s finally ready to adopt a pet.

 

-x-

 

The decision to walk to Tyler’s is probably 83% influenced by post-rejection, lack-of-new pet adrenaline, because Tyler’s new place is, like, five miles away and the sidewalk is already dotted with small drops of rain that are sure to only escalate to the heavy stuff that pours from the clouds. Tyler has walked over to Jamie’s place with all three dogs a grand total of once, and he vowed never to do it again, swearing a storm about cramps and dog drool, but. Jamie is sans-dogs, and upsettingly sans-cow, so he can walk. Jamie figures, too, that Bessie doesn’t dispense that kind of life-affirming telepathic wisdom to just anybody; the least he can do is follow her advice.

By the time he’s ringing Tyler’s doorbell, his shirt is soaked through and all the gel has probably, regrettably, been rinsed from his hair. It takes Tyler close to thirty seconds to answer the door — Jamie counts because he feels water dripping off his body and the actual last thing he needs right before a playoff run is to catch a cold. His shins are a little sore, which feels probably wrong since all he did was walk for an hour and he’s supposed to be an athlete.

“What, uh,” Tyler says, slowly, like he’s trying to parse out the situation in real time, which Jamie knows from experience is challenging for him. “What happened to you?”

“Can I come in?” Jamie asks.

Tyler wordlessly steps aside and Jamie walks past him into the foyer. All three dogs are going berserk from behind a baby gate blocking the kitchen, so Jamie rushes over to them, his damp socks sliding on the marble floors, and crouches down to give them the love they deserve. They crowd him, each looking up at him with deep brown eyes. Jamie thinks of Bessie, and his heart tugs.  

Jamie barely looks up in time to see Tyler chuck a towel at his head. Jamie explains, “I was in the area.” It’s such a bald-faced lie that Tyler must know it, but he doesn’t say anything.

Tyler shoos the dogs away and leans in the kitchen doorway, crossing his arms as he does so. Jamie appreciatively runs the towel through his hair and drapes it over his shoulders.

“Not the best weather for a walk, eh?” Tyler says.

“Not ideal,” Jamie agrees.

A few moments of silence pass, and Jamie quietly looks around. He’s only been here a few times since Tyler’s moved in, and only either when there were tons of other people around or for short periods of time. He gets what Tyler was saying about the house being too big, he thinks. It’s a lot of open space for just one guy and three dogs.

“So. What’s up with you?” Tyler asks, opening the baby gate and gesturing for Jamie to following him through to the kitchen.

“I tried to adopt the team mascot, but they wouldn’t let me,” Jamie answers.

“Ah, sorry to hear that?” Tyler says, scratching the back of his neck. He moves around the island to stand in front of the fridge, hand lingering on the handle. “Beer?”

“God, yes.”

Jamie sits down at one of the barstools bracketing the island. Marshall settles at his feet. Tyler comes around and hands Jamie a Stella, and leans across from him on the opposite side of the island. They clink bottles, and Jamie takes a long, slow sip. Tyler breaks the silence first.

“Were you really going to adopt the cow?”

Jamie sighs. “Yeah, I wanted to.”

“There are easier pets to adopt, dude.”

Jamie shrugs. “She was special. She was my emotional support cow,” he says, then downs a third of his beer in two gulps.

“ _She_ was named Mike _Moodano_ , so I think it’s maybe better you don’t have to live with that.”

“Actually, I called her Bessie.”

“Jesus Christ, Jamie, did you seriously rename the cow?”

“Just in my head!” Jamie protests.

Tyler takes a long pull of his beer and laughs. “You’re so lame sometimes, I swear.”

Jamie figures, now’s as good a time as any to bring up what he came here to bring up. It’s perfect, he can use the subject of Bessie as a segue. “Well, we had a connection. She… inspired me.” Okay, strong start, starting with undeniable fact. Now, how does he connect this dot to the much larger, much more pressing dot standing in front of him?

Tyler’s watching Jamie with his chin propped in the heel of his hand with the faintest smile on his lips. He’s just watching, like maybe he’s expecting Jamie to say something sensical, but he doesn’t actually verbally shepherd Jamie back towards his train of thought, so Jamie continues.

“So, you know how we’re… like…it’s just — it’s the mole thing… and…” Midway through, Jamie realizes he doesn’t actually know what the fuck he was supposed to say.

Tyler’s brow furrows. “Wait, you have a mole or I have a mole?” He pauses to press a nearly-comedic finger to his lips. “Are moles contagious?”

“No, I think you’re born with them, or you get them when you don’t wear sunscreen and stay out in the sun,” Jamie says.

Tyler clicks his tongue. “That SPF, bro. It’s crucial.”

Jamie nods absently. “Right, yeah. But, the thing is…” His point… he’s forgetting his point. “Do we hang out enough?” he asks, instead of the thing he originally planned on saying. Which he didn’t really have planned out. Maybe he shouldn’t be winging this.

Tyler’s eyes go wide, and he looks slightly confused. “Uh, what?”

“No, like. What I actually want to say is. That. We should hang out _more_. And possibly, romantically?”

When Tyler doesn’t say anything, just gapes at him, Jamie continues, “So Bessie, she inspired me in a lot of ways. And, like, I’ve been thinking how it’s about time I get my shit together, in all aspects of life. You know how, like, we have a connection. You know? I know it’s not just me who feels it. Right? Tell me you do, too.”

Tyler scratches his sideburn and tilts his head ever so slightly. It makes Jamie think about those Instagram accounts that are just owners who look like their pets. Or vice-versa, whatever.

“I’m not following. This connection… it’s with me, or with the cow?”

It’s not a rejection, which is probably good.

“ _You_ , you idiot. Bessie, just. She, uh, she convinced me to tell you.”

Tyler’s eyebrows shoot up. “What’s that, now? You’re talking to cows?”

A little helplessly, Jamie waves his arms around, hoping the motion will illustrate what he’s really trying to say. Jamie takes it as probably a good sign that Tyler’s focused on his thing with Bessie and not, say, laughing uproariously in his face about the suggestion of romantic stuff. “Not exactly. We had a bond.”

Tyler’s quiet for maybe three seconds before erupting into the loudest, full-body laugh Jamie’s seen from him in ages. Jamie spoke too soon. He’s inclined to pout, but also, Tyler’s maybe entirely irresistible when he’s laughing like this.

“Okay, I - ” Tyler wheezes. “I _swear_ I’m not making fun of you, but. Is this your way of asking me out, Jameson?”

“Is this your way of saying yes?”

“ _Yes,_ dude, oh my god.” There’s laughter in his eyes and he’s everything and Jamie loves him with his whole body. “It’s about time.”

Jamie stands and leans over his end of the counter to close the distance between them and kiss Tyler’s laughing mouth.

Afterwards, when they’re making out on the couch in Tyler’s massive living room, Tyler breaks off to waggle his eyebrows. Jamie’s a little dazed from all the kissing, but even he can tell Tyler’s laying it on pretty thick.

“I mean, it’s still early. We have time to commit a felony.”

“Excuse me?” Jamie says.

“I’m just saying - kidnapping’s still on the table. Y’know, since I think I owe that cow a big one.”

Tyler’s giving him that smile of his, the one where it’s like he’s letting Jamie in on an inside joke, one that’s just meant for them. The one that’s always made Jamie feel precisely fourteen years old, whenever Tyler flashes it his way. So it just slips out, easy, when Jamie says, “I love you.”

Tyler doesn’t even have the audacity to look surprised. He just leans in to touch his forehead against Jamie’s. “Yeah, I do too, bud.”

  


**Author's Note:**

> Or, the Dallas Stars have a cowboy, a cow boy, and a cow, boy! (Also, why did we not actually get any PR with Jamie and the cow?) 
> 
> Come talk to me over on [tumblr](https://oldjolt.tumblr.com)!


End file.
